


ain't you my baby

by saltandshore



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, as in peter gets very aggressively hit on, just a touch of angst but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 13:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandshore/pseuds/saltandshore
Summary: Peter and Tony attend the annual SI gala, and Peter is far too highly sought after by New York's sleaziest elite for Tony's comfort.





	ain't you my baby

**Author's Note:**

> I loooove protective!tony and so I thought I'd give it a whirl. Hope you like it! 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at starkerhusbands :)

Peter sighs, fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt in the mirror. He keeps unbuttoning and rebuttoning the top two near his collar, unsure of how many to leave open.

"You sure you want me to go to this thing?" he asks, looking at Tony's reflection as the man dresses behind him. "I feel like I'm not really... Stark Industries Gala material."

Tony gives him a look in the mirror, doing up his own cufflinks. "You're telling me that my boyfriend of three years isn't prepared for a wine and dine of New York's most pretentious? I find that hard to believe - you've put up with me this long, haven't you?"

Peter rolls his eyes, dropping his hands. "You know what I mean."

Tony purses his lips, heaving a dramatic sigh. "I mean you don't _have_ to come, but we both know Pepper will kill you if you don't," he comes to stand behind him, undoing the buttons he'd just redone and kissing his ear. "You think she's going to let you forget the work she put in last month to introduce our relationship to the world in a way that didn't induce mass panic and then let you get away with not making public appearances?"

Peter grabs Tony's hands, resting them on his stomach and leaning back into him. "Guess not," he murmurs. "Which is fair. I still can't decide if everyone was more surprised that you're dating a 25 year old or that we'd already been together three years by the time they found out."

Tony chuckles, kissing his throat.

"I just - " Peter says in a rush of breath. "You're so good at this stuff and I feel like everyone is just going to realize you're way out of my league."

Tony is unmoving behind him before he meets his gaze in the mirror, arms warm and tight around him.

"You know," he says softly, conversationally. "The first time I realized how ass over elbows I was for you was when you were in your first year at MIT and you'd come back to the tower for the summer. We were in the lab - you, Bruce, me - and you wiped the floor with both of us. Now you've graduated top of your class, you've got graduate schools fighting over you, and you're worried about what overstuffed society shirts think of you?"

He turns Peter in his arms, kissing both of his cheeks, his forehead, his nose.

"If you only saw yourself the way I see you and the way everyone else sees you," he whispers, lips a bare breath from Peters. "You'd realize you're the best thing humanity has going for it, and getting to go _anywhere_ with you on my arm is my greatest privilege."

"Tony," Peter breathes, heart pounding. "You're -"

Tony doesn't let him finish, catching his lips in a slow, deep kiss. Peter whines against his mouth, arms winding around his neck as he rocks into him.

"You're the best part about me," Tony whispers, nipping at his bottom lip. "Don't forget it."

There's a knock at the door, perfunctory and sharp.

"Sirs," FRIDAY says. "Pepper would like to remind you that you'll be late if you don't keep it in your pants and get your asses downstairs."

"Oh my god," Peter blushes, dropping his head to Tony's chest as the older man laughs. "Tell her we're coming - n-no, I mean - god, we'll be down in a second!"

-

"Holy shit," Peter whispers, squeezing Tony's hand as the elevator door opens onto the floor. It's shimmering, Pepper having outdone herself on the decor (as usual), and it's packed full of elegantly dressed New York elite. The winter skyline of New York is glittering outside the floor to ceiling windows, and there are a few tastefully decorated trees around the cavernous room.

"Well said," Tony smirks, wrapping an arm around his waist as they stride (re: Tony strides confidently, Peter tries not to trip on his own feet) into the room.

There's a smattering of applause and cheers, people reaching out to shake Tony's hand and slap his shoulders as they make their way to the front of the room. He lets Peter go as they approach the set up stage, kissing his temple.

Peter blows out a shaky breath, moving to stand next to Rhodey. The others - Pepper, maybe even a few of the team - are scattered about through the crowd.

"You're doing great," Rhodey murmurs, smiling as he claps when Tony heads on stage. "Don't worry, we won't throw you to the hungry socialites. Just relax."

The applause sounds out as Tony steps up to the microphone, whistles and cheers flooding the room.

"Thank you," he murmurs into the microphone, winking at Peter before straightening up. "Thank you all for being here tonight. This little shin dig we host once a year is very dear to my heart, which I'm told many of you doubted I even had until about a month ago."

Laughter and a few whistles again. If there's one thing Tony Stark knows, its how to control a room and Peter is trying _desperately_ not to think about all the things he wants to do to him right now.

"As I said, this is more than just a holiday occasion for you all to get drunk on my dime," Tony says with a grin. "This year we're raising money for women's shelters and LGBTQ+ shelters throughout the city - every cent donated here tonight is going directly to them."

Peter himself whistles proudly as everyone claps, because god damnit, he loves this man.

Tony smiles, waiting for the applause to die down. "I'd like to thank the inimitable Pepper Potts for not only single-handedly pulling off an incredible evening, but for consistently guiding Stark Industries to bigger and better things as our CEO. You are the best of the best, and we all know I'd be dead in a ditch somewhere without you."

She laughs, raising her champagne glass as everyone applauds.

"And - though I know I'm going to get shit for this later - I have one more person I'd like to thank for making this year, and the last 3 years, so important to me and so important to this company," he raises his own champagne glass, looking at Peter. "Pete, you make me a better man and believe me when I say everyone in this room should be thanking you for it. Now, that's enough from me. Eat, drink, be merry and donate!"

Peter barely hears the applause from the room as Tony steps down the stage and walks towards him. He feels flushed all over, sure his face is bright red.

"You're right, you're getting shit for that," he laughs as Tony pulls him close. "Who are you and what've you done with Tony Stark?"

Tony grins, pressing his smile to Peter's forehead. "Love changes a man, underoos, you know that."

Peter rolls his eyes, but accepts a smiling kiss from the older man.

"Not to break up this adorable display," Pepper smirks, coming over to them. "But you've got about a hundred people you need to spend time with tonight, Tony, so you better get a move on. Peter, you're going to be in high demand too, so just relax and make small talk, alright?"

Tony pinches his ass, earning a startled yelp from Peter before he winks and strides away, being devoured by a crowd of wealthy admirers. Pepper gives his arm a squeeze before she's gone too, shaking hands and dazzling guests.

"Small talk," he blows out a breath, shaking himself to relax. "Small talk. I can do this."

-

Peter thinks if one more person asks him about his time at MIT, he's going to jump out the window and fake his own death. He's just escaped his latest repetitive conversation with another pretentious society couple, leaning against the bar in a quieter area, when someone nudges his elbow.

"You look like you could use another drink," the man says with a smile. He's about Tony's height and age but not as broad and not nearly as handsome, light brown hair artfully styled and suit impeccably tailored. He snags a champagne flute from a passing waiter and hands it to Peter. "I'm James."

"Oh, uh - thank you," Peter says, a little taken aback. "I'm Peter. Are you - is this your first time here?"

James chuckles, licking his lips as he looks Peter up and down. "I was here last year, but you weren't, were you? I think I'd remember seeing you."

The outright flirting is a little startling. "Um, n-no I wasn't," he looks around the room for Tony. They're a little hidden where they are, tucked away from the mingling crowd. "I was finishing up my last semester at MIT, so I couldn't make it."

"Too bad," James murmurs, stepping in a bit closer. "But I'm glad you're here now. Someone who can manage to keep Tony Stark interested for this long must have a very... particular set of skills."

Peter frowns, taking a step back but he's met with the hard metal of the bar. "I think you should back off," he says, jaw tight. His heart is pounding in his chest as James slowly moves closer so as not to draw any unnecessary attention. Peter is more than capable of defending himself, but the last thing he wants to do is cause a scene and ruin the night for Tony.

"I know you don't mean that," James murmurs, hand reaching out and grabbing Peter's hip roughly, hard enough to bruise him. "Twinks like you love a rough fuck from a rich daddy, don't you?"

James is hard in his dress pants, Peter can see, and it makes him feel sick. He pushes his hand off roughly.

"I said no," he says, voice a little louder, firmer. "Back off."

James laughs, low and cruel, caging Peter against the bar. "You don't want to make a scene and ruin the big night, do you? Or worse, have your precious Tony end up hurt somehow? So why don't you come with me, let me have what I want, and I'll have you back in time for dessert."

He grabs Peter's chin roughly, thumb pressing at his bottom lip as Peter tries to pull away. "Maybe I'll start with your pretty little mouth. That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?"

"I've got a better one," comes a familiar voice, tight with anger. "How about you back the fuck off and then I'll kick your sorry ass into the Hudson?"

"Tony," Peter breathes, relief flooding through him at the sound of the older man. His knees feel suspiciously wobbly.

Tony's face is like thunder, voice clear and powerful as he approaches. James turns, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Tony," he says, smiling demurely. "You've got to keep an eye on this one - he started it. He was all over me the minute you had your back turned."

"Wha - fuck you, I was not!" Peter starts, anger flushing through him.

"Oh, really?" Tony asks, sharp eyes looking at James. He's livid, jaw tight with barely controlled anger. "Because what I heard was him tell you to back off and you threaten him with my safety if he fought your impending sexual assault."

James scoffs, but it's easy to see he's uncomfortable now that everyone is watching the scene unfold. "Please," he says, rolling his eyes. "He wants it, he just won't admit it. It's hardly fair of you to keep a little slut like him all to yourself -"

Tony moves so fast that Peter barely has time to recognize what's happening before James is on the floor, clutching his undoubtedly broken nose. There are startled sounds from the crowd, James making a broken groaning noise.

Tony crouches next to him, grabbing him by the collar.

"Let me make myself very clear," he says lowly, voice dangerous. "You're a walking dead man. If I see your face again, you'll wish you'd never been born. Do you understand me?"

James nods. "Y-yes."

"Yes, what?" Tony demands, fist tightening in his shirt.

"Yes sir," James chokes.

"Good," Tony releases him, wiping his bloody knuckles on the man's shirt before standing. "Now get out."

James wastes no time all but running from the room, leaving Peter wide-eyed staring at Tony and the crowd watching the two of them.

"Back to the celebrating," Tony says, shooing them. "Show's over, carry on."

They miraculously do as they're told even though Peter can already see Pepper and Rhodey leaving the room to do press damage control. All he really cares about is the way Tony grabs his hand, leading him out of the room through a back door.

"Tony - " he starts once the door is closed behind him and they're blessedly alone. "I'm so sorry, I - "

Tony lifts him up, pushing him back against the wall with a kiss that has Peter's toes curling in his shoes, arms automatically winding around his neck and strong thighs squeezing Tony's hips.

"You -" Tony whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth before licking and sucking his way from Peter's jaw to his pale throat. "Don't you dare apologize for that low life's behaviour. Are you alright?"

Peter whines, adrenaline and arousal flooding through him, hips rocking forward as Tony's hands squeeze his ass. "M'fine, m'okay -" he stutters out. "I didn't want to - _ah,_ Tony - make a scene and ruin your night -"

The older man is leaving what will no doubt be a deep purple bruise on his neck, rocking forward against Peter's hips, hard cock tightening the front of his trousers.

"If that ever happens again," Tony murmurs, teeth gently tugging at Peter's bottom lip. "I want you to kick their asses six ways to Sunday and I don't care if the goddamned queen is in the room. No one is allowed to treat you that way."

Peter nods, a breathy moan slipping out when Tony puts him down, unbuttoning both of their pants and pushing them down to their thighs.

"C'mere," Peter half begs, arms back around Tony's neck and kissing him for all he's worth as the older man wraps a hand around both of their cocks, wasting no time. "Fuck, _Tony_ ,  yeah - "

"You're _mine_ ," Tony whispers against his lips, making Peter's cock spill precome, slicking Tony's hand. "You're mine and no one else's. I'm gonna marry you, Peter, and then everyone will know who you belong to -"

Peter feels like he's going to fall into a million pieces, hands shaking as they clutch at Tony's shoulders. "Y- yeah, _yes_ , please -" he whimpers. "Wanna be yours forever, Tony, _yeah_ -"

"You will be," Tony licks into his mouth, swallowing the moan that leaves Peter's lips. "And I'll be yours. I'll be your husband, you'll be in my bed every night, won't you baby? _Look_ at you -"

Peter never thought marriage talk would be enough to push him over the edge, but he comes so hard and so suddenly that he can't muffle his shout, Tony's name on his lips as his orgasm tears through him. Tony is barely a second behind him, thick ropes of white painting their shirts and Tony's hand.

Peter is breathless as he sags against Tony, forehead pressed into this neck as they both come down.

"I love you," he whispers, the thud of Tony's heart against his chest the best feeling in the world. "I love you so much, Tony, and I don't ever want anyone but you."

Tony kisses his hair, his temple, anywhere he can reach as he wipes his hand on his shirt. "I know, sweetheart, me too," he murmurs. "What do you say we ditch this circus and head upstairs, huh?"

Peter nods, exhausted and wanting nothing more than to curl up in their bed with Tony. They sneak out another door to a private elevator, mercifully avoiding anyone else in their disheveled state.

"Did you mean it?" Peter asks quietly as the elevator takes them up to the penthouse. "That you want to marry me?"

Tony smiles, the soft private smile that Peter likes to think is only for him.

"Happy hasn't been carrying a ring box around in his pocket for a year and a half for no reason," he murmurs, giving him a wry look. "I've just been waiting for the right moment."

"Oh," Peter breathes, grin threatening to split his face in half as he looks down at the floor. "Well, then don't rush for my sake. I'm sure the right moment will come."

Neither of them stop smiling the entire ride to the top.

-

The right moment comes almost a month later on a snowy January morning. Tony wakes Peter up with breakfast in bed and on the tray is a steaming mug of coffee, pancakes, and a simple stunning gold band.

"What d'you say?" Tony asks, running a shaky hand through his hair, the movement betraying his nerves as he watches Peter's eyes go wide. "Wanna do this thing?"

Peter carefully moves the tray aside, picking up the ring like it's the most delicate thing in the world. He looks at Tony, honeyed eyes wide and shining.

"Hell yeah, I wanna do this thing," he grins, an emotional laugh leaving him as he throws his arms around Tony, who laughs as they fall back into the fluffy blankets. He kisses Tony soundly, barely able to with the size of the smile on his lips.

He looks down at the older man, running a hand through his hair. "That's the best idea you've had yet, Mr. Stark," he whispers, grinning.

Tony laughs, leaning up to kiss him again before slipping the gold band onto Peter's finger. "Glad you think so, Mr. Stark."


End file.
